


Nurse Jackie

by The_Pugnisher



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6462451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Pugnisher/pseuds/The_Pugnisher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nurse Jackie (not the Jackie from the TV show) has a run in with Sherlock at John's office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nurse Jackie

**Author's Note:**

> This is a flash fic written at the 221 B Con in Atlanta.

“Mr. Fenton,” Jackie called as she pulled open the heavy wooden door that separated the waiting room to the Doctors’ offices. She spotted the little old man as he hobbled toward her in his ill-fitting suit. He smiled brightly up at her, his webbed face stretched and weathered. She accepted the smiled and returned it with a brief chemically-brightened smile that did not quite reach her eyes. Mr. Fenton was a repeat customer, so she saw him come in almost once every week or so with some new ache, pain, or complaint. Normally his little wife followed him back to the doctor’s office, but Jackie didn’t catch sight of her today. She wondered, half-heartedly, if Mrs. Fenton was okay, but she didn’t take the time to ask.

“Morning!” the old man called as he passed through the open door. His voice rasped with a breathless quality. It almost sounded that he might pass out from the exertion just from walking from the waiting room to the examination room. 

“Good morning,” she replied, faking a chirpiness she did not feel, “You know the drill Mr. Fenton. Follow Miss Asher and she will get you started. Doctor Watson will see you shortly.”

She let the door fall shut as she watched the old man wobble down the hall after the nurse, leaning heavily on his cane. The door was nearly closed when a loud thwak resounded from it. Oh, shit she thought did I just hit Mrs. Fenton with the door? I didn’t even see her? Oh, God. I could have knocked her down. She was so tiny that it wouldn’t take much to break her hip. Jackie grabbed the door, still partially open, and pulled it to reveal…

“I need to see John,” Sherlock said. He started to push by Jackie, but she threw out her arm to block his way. 

“If you need to see Doctor Watson, then you’ll need to fill out a patient form.”

“I’m not a patient,” Sherlock said, drolly. 

“And, I’m not a secretary.”

Sherlock paused. She hoped that he realized that she was not in the mood to deal with his shit. His hooded eyes looked her up and down, almost seeing through her. She shivered with the feeling of being exposed, naked in front of him. She knew he was studying her; devouring her. 

“Oh, I see,” he answered simply. 

Jackie bit her lip and glared at him. Her first instinct was to call him out on his shenanigans, but she knew that was trouble. Don’t feed the troll she thought to herself. She would not give in. She refused to let him win…again. She wanted to slam the door in his face, but she could not. If she moved to shut the door, he would slip past her. It was a standoff, but she knew, deep down, that she had already lost. She could only hold off the inevitable. She glared at him, but his smug expression taunted her.

She caved. 

“Ugh! What!?” 

Shit, she thought, why did I do that?

“Oh, nothing,” Sherlock replied sounding bored. She knew that he had perfected that sound byte. She felt that he used it to piss people off; to get people to open the mouths and say something done. She would disappoint him. 

No… no she would not. 

“Good, then leave.” 

“Is that what you said to your boyfriend when you broke up with him?”

“How did you?” she started, then screamed internally. NO! God! The troll! He had set her up, tricked her, trapped her. How could she have been so stupid?

“You’re not wearing the necklace he bought you; you’ve bleached your teeth; you’ve gotten a haircut, very flattering by the way; you’ve used a brighter, more attractive makeup palette; you aren’t wearing men’s deodorant, I got a whiff when you blocked the door; you’ve left another button undone on your top, and you’ve got this pep in your step. It’s almost as if you have dropped off burden you don’t have to deal with anymore.”

“Shut up,” Jackie said, her teeth gritted in a pearly white gate to hold back the flood or expletives she wanted to use.

“I bet you’re a man eater,” Sherlock observed.

She slapped him in a flash of rage. He took a step back. She thought angrily, I bet he saw that coming. Then she grabbed the door and slammed it on the detective. There was a thud as the door hit Sherlock and pushed him back out into the lobby. When it finally shut, a resounding click echoed as it locked closed. 

Great, now I have to tell Dr. Watson.


End file.
